Wrong Number
by Buffy Winchester
Summary: Buffy ends up talking to a mysterious stranger.


Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Dean flopped down backwards onto the motel bed. Two months since he and Sam had lost their father, and they passed each minute without a word about his death. In that way, he still existed. The ghost in the backseat.  
But as each day went on, Sam seemed to get a little more tense. He answered questions with fewer words, sat a little closer to the door - and further from Dean. A few times, Dean had glanced over to see Sam staring back at him with that kicked puppy expression on his face, and he'd grunt in response and turn the radio up, or hit the gas pedal. No mourning the man that gave his soul away. No need for guilt from him.

Now Sam was throwing his duffel bag onto the other bed. He yanked the zipper so hard, Dean heard a couple of seams rip and glanced over. Sam glared back and started fumbling through the contents until he had what he needed, then went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Dean stood up and walked over to the bathroom door. "Hey, Sammy. You want me to order a pizza?"

Silence, then running water.

"Okay!" Dean replied, all false enthusiasm. "Anchovies for you and pepperoni for me!" He walked over to the dresser and flipped through the local restaurant guide, searching for a pizza place that was nearby. He picked one at random and mouthed the number to himself a couple of times, making sure he had it memorized before he picked up his cell phone and started dialing. He sat down at the foot of his bed and kicked his sneakers off.

Buffy's cell phone started ringing, which meant that it was playing some song that made her duck her head to hide her embarrassment. She hurried out of the gym and into the quiet hallway, closing the door behind her as a few of the Slayers-in-training started to snicker.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, I want to order a large pepperoni pizza, and uh...a large-"

"You have the wrong number."

"Sorry."

"No problem." She hung up and stuck the phone back into the pocket of her jeans. She was sure her face was still a little red, so she took a deep breath and started to count to twenty, thinking that would be enough time to calm down and pretend that she hadn't just humiliated herself for the sake of a pop song.

He sat there for a few seconds, staring down at the phone in his hand. Not sure what he was doing, he found the number on his recent call list and hit send, then held the phone back up to his ear.

Buffy flinched and got the phone out of her pocket. "Hello?"

Dean licked his lips. "Hi. Um, it's me again. The guy that tried to order a pizza?" He chuckled nervously.

"Hasn't even been a whole minute since you called." She said dryly. "I think I remember you."

"Right." He cleared his throat.

"I'm sure if you check the number again, you'll find what you want."

"Don't hang up!" He sounded frantic.

"Okay. I'm still here. What's..." She started walking down the hall, toward the staircase. "What's wrong? You sound upset about something."

"No." He said automatically, then glanced at the bathroom door to make sure Sam was still preoccupied. "I mean, yeah. I kinda need to talk to somebody, and-" 'And you're a safe bet because you don't know who the hell I am.'

"I'm not exactly qualified for that sort of thing." Buffy said nervously, opening her bedroom door.

"I'm not suicidal." He blurted. "Just need to say something."

She frowned at her phone. "Okay. Um, go ahead then?"

"My dad died a couple months ago."

Buffy sank down into the chair in front of her desk. "Oh."

"I'm kinda on the road with my brother." Dean continued, his back relaxing slightly. He reached behind him and grabbed a pillow to tuck under his head while he laid back, feet still on the floor. "And we're not really talking about it."

"But you want to talk about it?"

"Thing is? I don't." Dean admitted. "Because then it's real, and he's gone."

Buffy's eyes closed as she thought back to how things were between herself and Dawn after Joyce died. She'd tried her best to make things seem normal, but Dawn had started screaming at her about it, which resulted in Buffy hitting her own sister. A tear slid down her cheek, not for herself, but for what this guy must be going through.

"You're still there, right?"

"Yeah." She opened her eyes and frowned.

"What are you doing?" He asked, eager to change the subject.

"Nothing, really. Just sitting around."

"What's your name?"

Buffy took the phone away from her ear and stared at it in shock before she answered him. "Why do you need to know?"

"Making conversation."

"Don't wanna talk about your dad anymore, then?"

"Something like that."

"Okay. My name's Buffy."

"Mine's Dean. Just so you know." He heard the bathroom door open. "Hey, I'm gonna call you back in a minute, if that's all right?"

"If you want."

"Cool deal." He hung up and started pressing buttons on his phone, not meeting Sam's gaze as he saved Buffy's number.

"Who was that?" Sam gave him a suspicious look.

"Psychic hotline." Dean smirked up at him. "They said you're going to go on a journey soon." Dean dangled the keys to the Impala in front of Sam. "Pick up some pizza, wouldja? I'm starving."

Sam grabbed the keys and muttered to himself as he left the motel room.

Dean called Buffy again.

"That was fast." She commented.

"Yeah, well. I didn't want my brother to hear, so I sent him out for pizza."

"You could just try talking to him about what you're feeling." She suggested.

"Yeah. Better chance of demons ripping my heart from my chest." He winced, even though he knew she wouldn't take him seriously. Who the hell really believed in demons? "I'm not much for talking."

"You're talking to me." Buffy pointed out.

"It's different. I don't even know you."

"But you said you didn't want to talk about your dad, so you don't need to talk to me."

He paused. "I want to."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't hang up on me."

She sighed. "I know how it feels to lose a parent."

"Sorry."

"No. I mean, it's not anything recent. Or, not too recent. It still sort of feels like it just happened, and it was years ago."

"Mom or Dad?"

"Mom. Dad was pretty much absent already. Divorce."

"So you're kind of an orphan, then?"

"I guess." She shrugged even though he couldn't see her. "But I've got family, even if they're not biological. People I keep close." She felt like she was lying. How long had it been since she'd confided in anyone? Hadn't they all betrayed her just before Sunnydale was obliterated? Maybe Spike had been right years ago when he said they weren't friends. Suddenly, she found herself grateful that there was a stranger at the other end of the phone. Someone who wouldn't judge her; or if he did, it wouldn't make a difference. "That's not true."

"What?"

"What I just said." Buffy explained. "I lied." She stood up and started to pace the bedroom. "I've got this group of people that I pretend to be close to, but I'm not, and I haven't been for awhile. I really only talk to my sister, and that's not even all the time, because I can't let her see my br- um, bad side." She'd nearly said bruises.

"Bad side?"

"I'm not exactly the saintliest person. Saintliest is a word, right?"

He grinned at the phone. "Yeah."

"Okay."

"So what do you do that isn't so saintly?"

"Are-" She was startled. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe."

Buffy would have been pissed off if she didn't recognize what he was doing. Trying to deflect his pain by clinging to anything else. At least, that's what she hoped he was doing. Otherwise, he was some kind of jerk for trying to get sympathy over a deceased relative. "You don't have to pretend with me." She said quietly. "I won't pretend with you, either. Is that a deal?"

Dean gulped and felt his eyes well up. "Yeah, okay."

"Dean."

From her tone, he knew that she wasn't going to let him get away with a half-hearted response. How could this woman he'd never met understand him better than his own brother? Sometimes he said he didn't want to talk about things, but what he really meant was, 'One more try, and I'll tell you anything.' Too often, Sam just gave up. "It's a deal."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven." He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "You?"

"I'm twenty-five."

Dean felt like he was going in reverse ninety miles an hour as he sat up and forced back everything she'd just brought to the surface. "We don't have to share life stories or anything, do we?" He said roughly. "This is what I get for talking to a chick."

"So hang up." She challenged him. "And don't call me again. You're wasting my time too, you know? Not just yours."

"How am I wasting your time? You just said you were sitting around a couple minutes ago." Dean shot back. "And the only person you confide in is your sister? What the hell are you, some kind of spinster? You got some kind of Baby Jane thing going on?"

"You're on a road trip with your brother." Buffy countered, fist clenched at her side. "Most guys your age are settling down and starting a family. I'm guessing you're some kind of eunuch and can't do that, huh?"

Dean froze and started cracking up. "You just called me dickless?"

"Something like that." Her mouth curved into a smile.

"Sweetheart, I can assure you that I not only have a penis, but that I know how to use it." He smirked.

Buffy could feel her face growing warm with embarrassment. And okay, something else too. Time to change the subject again. "What do candy bars have to do with being single, anyway?" She opted for the ditz routine that usually caused people to dismiss her as harmless and leave her alone.

"Not Baby Ruth..." Dean trailed off and shook his head. "You know, that was pretty good."

"What?"

"Come on. You've used some of those ten dollar words on me already. You think I'm going to believe you got Baby Ruth and Baby Jane confused?"

"Most people buy it." She said quietly.

"I ain't most people." He drawled, turning around on the bed and throwing the pillow back up by the headboard.

"No, you're not." She agreed. "You called back even though you knew the number was wrong."

"Well, I don't think the pizza guy could give as good advice as you have." Dean grinned. "And I bet you look hotter, too."

"You never know." She said breezily. "I might be disfigured or something. I could look like Eric Stoltz from Mask."

Dean made a sound of disgust, then chuckled lightly. "I could keep the lights off. You sound hot. That's good enough."

"Stop flirting with me." Buffy blurted, agitated suddenly. "I'm not looking for a relationship and I'm definitely not looking to get laid. There are 900 numbers you can call for that. You called me to talk about your dad because you won't talk to your brother about him. So, tell me about him."

"Sorry." Dean said quietly. "It's kind of a habit I have. I'll try to stop." He thought about John before he spoke again. "My dad was a hunter. He went all over the country, looking for whatever...game he could find. Took me and Sam with him sometimes."

"Sam's your brother?"

"Yeah."

"How did he die? Your dad, I mean."

"Hunting accident." Dean lied. He felt guilty about it, then figured what the hell? Might as well tell her the truth. She didn't know him and probably already thought he was nuts, so if she hung up, what difference would it make? "Look. I lied. It's complicated."

"It's okay. I did it a second ago, so now we're even." She paused. "What did you lie about?"

"My dad hunts demons. The, uh, hunting accident? He went to this demon and traded my soul for his so that I could live. I know it sounds crazy and you're probably looking up the number for the cops right now, but I'm telling you the truth."

"I believe you." Buffy told him, taking a deep breath. "I'm sort of a demon hunter, too. Mostly vampires."

"Are you fucking with me?" Dean blurted, nearly dropping the phone.

"No."

Well, what the hell were the odds of this? If she was telling the truth, anyway. "What's your favorite weapon?"

"I got a rocket launcher as a birthday present from a friend one year. That was kind of cool."

There was no way she could have come up with that on the spot, Dean decided. "I want to meet you."

"Wouldn't that take away from me being a stranger to you?" Buffy asked. "That's why you're talking to me now, remember?"

"Okay, we'll wait then. But I'm not going to change my mind."

"We'll see."

"Hey, you don't know me. I can be pretty damn stubborn sometimes."

"I'll meet you after you talk to your brother about your dad." Buffy told him. "But you can't force yourself to do it. Wait until you're ready."

"Yes ma'am." He joked.


End file.
